LOST
by Krystiana
Summary: My first GW story, one that I wrote on a night that I was feeling quite depressed. Yaoi/slash, but only slightly.


LOST

Krystiana   
kbrannan@raex.com 

* * *

_I've got a piece of glass   
But it won't break the skin   
I cry because I can't   
Cause myself any pain   
If I try hard enough   
It can make a scar   
And I watch   
My blood run down the drain   
When I cut myself   
I want someone to be there   
To lick the blood up   
There are marks on my skin   
And when they sting   
I smile_   
- April 15, 2000, 1:25 am 

* * *

He tested the piece of glass with his finger. When a bead of blood welled up on the tip, he set the glass down on the shelf in the shower. It was strange, really. He hadn't done this in a long time, but he was feeling lost again, and he knew that pain would fill up that void. And being so casual about it... 

Trowa smiled. 

He started the water and got undressed, then stepped into the shower. He went through the ritual of washing his hair and let the water run over his face. It was oddly relaxing. 

Trowa traced the marks on his arms with his fingers. The marks had faded to nearly invisible, but he knew they were there. He still wore shirts with long sleeves to hide them, out of habit if nothing else. 

_open your damn eyes nanashi_

Trowa closed his eyes. Horrible memories. They've since been replaced with new ones, haven't they? He was digging up old pains because of his new ones. It was better to deal with his troubles that he had now, rather then worry about old ones. 

Trowa picked up the piece of glass and made one cut along his arm on the top side, then one underneath. The one on top went vertically along his arm, while the one on the bottom side were horizontal. Trowa watched the blood begin to run down his arm with an expressionless face. When it became diluted by the shower water, he cut himself again. 

_one two four five_

One for Heero. Heero was someone Trowa had thought he could relate to. Instead, Trowa admired him. Heero knew exactly who he was and where he belonged. He always knew what to do in any situation. 

Two for Duo. Duo... how to describe him? Duo had an overabundance of energy, and he managed to remain optimistic throughout all battles. Duo was ironic. The God of Death was the most cheerful person he had ever met. It could be terribly irksome. 

Four for Quatre. Quatre had welcomed him, even though he'd had no idea who Trowa was. Quatre was too trusting of people. However, Trowa had to admit that Quatre tried his hardest to feel other people's pains. Although he could manage this sometimes, Quatre couldn't possibly understand Trowa's past, and Trowa didn't care to explain. 

Five for Wufei. Wufei and his wonderful idea of justice. There was no justice today, and Wufei still hadn't realized it. Wufei thought Trowa was dead inside and that he felt nothing. This wasn't true. Trowa simply didn't let his emotions show, because if he did nothing would survive. 

_three_

Trowa frowned at his new scars. 

Was it the other Gundam pilots that were causing his grief? God... he couldn't even tell what was causing his grief. That made it ten times as worse. 

_what does it mean when you die_

Trowa watched his blood run down the drain. He turned off the water and got out of the shower. He dried himself off and put his pants on, then picked up his shirt and peeked outside. There was no one in the halls, so Trowa silently slipped out of the bathroom and into the room he slept in. 

_tears are a mystery now_

Damn. The first cut he had made had been too deep. It wouldn't step bleeding. He would have to bandage that one. Trowa picked up a tissue and blotted his arm, then held it down while he looked for something to bandage it with. 

"Trowa." 

He stilled, then slowly turned his head and saw Heero standing in the doorway. 

Trowa quickly regained his composition. "Can I help you with something, Heero?" 

"What is this?" Heero held something up that flashed in the light. After focusing on it, Trowa realized it was the piece of glass he had cut himself with. He had left it in the shower. 

_careless_

Trowa said nothing, but closed his eyes. He heard Heero moving towards him, then felt Heero's hand on his arm - the one he had cut. 

"Trowa!" 

His eyes snapped open at Heero's extremely sharp tone of voice. Heero looked at Trowa's cuts, seemingly examining each one. Trowa let his eyes trail down to Heero's other hand and saw blood streaming out of his fist. 

"Heero, you're gripping the glass too hard." 

Heero's eyes snapped up to Trowa's. "Am I not allowed to cut myself, then?" 

Trowa blinked. "What?" 

"Why did you cut yourself?" 

_i needed the pain_

"Trowa!" 

He unsuccessfully tried to back away from Heero. "Hurting myself..." He paused. "Hurting myself gets rid of my grief." 

"Does it?" 

_yes_

"Do you feel any better?" 

"Yes." 

"For how long?" 

"Until the grief comes back." 

Heero's eyes slid shut, then he relaxed his grip of Trowa's arm. "Why do you feel grief?" 

"I don't know." 

Heero opened his eyes and dropped the glass he had been holding. He lifted his bleeding hand to Trowa's bleeding arm and then held them together. 

"What are you doing, Heero?" 

Heero stared at Trowa, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he draped his other arm around Trowa and drew him closer. 

_i will share your pain_

Blood ran down their bodies and clothes, but neither one cared. 

"Don't hurt yourself anymore, Trowa." Heero's voice was unusually soft. 

Trowa felt his mask slipping. Something wet was on his face. 

Tears? 

_tears melt the mask away_

He was not lost. Instead, he had just been found.   
  


**-end-**


End file.
